Miss Harriet
by another.maggie
Summary: Harriet goes missing.


**I**

"Do we talk directly into the camera or...?"

There's an approving nod. A cameraman refocusing the objective. Two plastic chairs to sit on. One white background to stand out against.

"Whenever you're ready," they say. As if they'd ever be ready.

She shifts in her seat. It's summer, a hot day, and she's wearing shorts. The plastic attaches itself to her thighs. "Uhm... okay."

"Roll," the director says. Which is weird. Who would have thought a serious director would operate on something like this? But then, this is the Avery family we're talking about.

"My name is April Kepner..." Her eyes wander over to him for assistance. There's none. He's camera shy. She'd almost forgotten that about him. "And this is Jackson Avery. Our daughter Harriet is nine months old and yesterday..."

She takes a deep breath in, then lets it out again. If she says it, it'll become true. If she says it, it'll be true. If she says it, she'll have said it.

"Yesterday Harriet was abducted from our home."

* * *

 **II**

The police takes eleven minutes to arrive. Eleven. April is furious.

"Our daughter was kidnapped from her own bedroom! We don't know who took her, we don't know where they took her, but she's gone. _Gone_. And you're telling me to keep calm?"

They don't understand. Even if some of them have children, they don't understand. Harriet is her baby. One minute she was safe and the next she was gone. It's Samuel all over again and they don't freaking-

"April, April." He tightens his grip around her stops her from continuing her assault on the cop. Apparently she's been hitting him. Her knuckles are all red. She can't remember hitting him, hitting anybody. She wishes she'd gotten to the person who took her daughter in time to hit him.

"She's gone, Jackson," she cries into his shirt, "He's gone, and she's gone. They're both gone."

* * *

 **III**

He knocks on her door before he enters. She's sitting on the bed, pictures spread out in front of her. They always took so many pictures. Some of them were online at the Avery foundation website.

" _You shouldn't have put these online," one of the cops told them._

" _Are you saying this is our fault?" she's asked._

 _He'd replied "No.". He didn't mean it._

"Dinner's ready."

"I'm not hungry," she mumbles, eyes focused on the pictures. Harriet was just breaking all her teeth, starting to sit up, beginning to crawl. Of course that's still more than they got with Samuel, but it's still not enough. It will never be enough.

He sighs. "April... you need to eat."

"Don't tell me what I need to do."

She's angry at him. Reason number one, he was at home with Harriet when it happened. Reason number two, she'd trusted him to keep her safe. Reason number three, she'd trusted him to keep their daughter safe. Reason number four, he'd let both of them down.

"At least drink something?" He's not only asking, he's begging. He feels bad about the whole thing and he really should. He should have been watching Harriet, but instead he'd been busy 'talking' on the phone with Maggie. That's what he told the police, anyway.

It's all his fault in the first place. Nobody would ever attempt to kidnap a Kepner baby to press for pork (although the best in Moline).

She turns around with a scowl on her face and downs the whole glass of water he brought her earlier, then sets it down with as much noise as possible.

He flinches and tells her: "Thank you."

 _Thanks for nothing_ , she thinks.

* * *

 **IV**

"We will wait," the expert for abducting cases tells them once he arrives on the private jet Jackson's mother had him fly in on. "They will call eventually with their demands. We'll be here, answering the phone with you, guiding you every step of the way. If they want money we'll pay. It's the safest method."

Her ex-husband nods along with everything this stranger is telling them. Money. That's all he can do now to keep their daughter safe. Money.

The plan is excellent. There's no way this could go wrong, no way Harriet will not be returned to them. Except.

"What If they don't call?"

Surprisingly, the supposed expert has no answer for her.

* * *

 **V**

When the police appears at their doorstep she's barely representable. It doesn't matter. She won't be representable ever again.

She knows they wouldn't come to tell her good news. That doesn't make any sense. No. They've come to tell her bad news. The worst, really.

Good thing she stocked up on some heavy medication last week when she went into work against everyone's wishes (not that anyone would ever listen to what _she_ wanted).

"Dr. Kepner?"

"Yes?"

"We're here about your daughter..."

* * *

 **VI**

"Dinner's ready," she calls upstairs. The echo of footsteps tells her she's been heard.

She walks back into the kitchen which also functions as their dining room. With a company of four there's no need for extravagant accommodation. The only thing extravagant about their house is the security system.

Her children trail in one by one. She raises an eyebrow. "Did you guys make it downstairs and washed your hands all within a minute?"

They roll their eyes but retreat towards the downstairs bathroom anyways.

 _Children,_ she thinks. She's lucky to have them.

* * *

 **A/N: This just popped into my head when I was heading to bed (there goes another hour of sleep I'll miss tomorrow). Make of the ending what you will. I left it pretty open on purpose ;P**


End file.
